


Teacups

by Nemoira (orphan_account)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Light Sadism, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Nemoira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one of the other worlds Will talked about, Hannibal created a place for Will and Abigail and Will accepted his gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deer

**Author's Note:**

> Will's still trying to get used to his life with a serial killer and a surrogate daughter, when someone he least wants to see shows up.

They had breakfast for dinner. Abigail's request. Will took a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and poured some into his glass, earning a frown from Hannibal. "What?" he said as he sat down at the table and smiled at Abigail. "

We're having breakfast for dinner, so I think it's only fair if I have a drink of my choice." Hannibal frowned again, but didn't feel like commenting, he  _did_ have a point after all. "Bon apétit," he said as he took the antique cutlery in his hand and started eating elegantly. "Uh, yeah, bon apéteet," Abigail repeated in a horrible French accent. Will took a sip of his whiskey before digging in reluctantly. He still felt a little weird eating human flesh, even after all this time.

He thought back, two years ago, when all of this started. Alana Bloom was pushed out of a window and Jack Crawford presumably bled to death. Will didn't know, he avoided the news, newspapers and never bothered to ask Hannibal or Abigail. Perhaps he was afraid. He glanced at Hannibal, who looked well-tailored as always in one of his nicer suits and put some meat in his mouth. As he swallowed it he felt odd. It always felt odd, until perhaps one day it wouldn't. 

Abigail got tired quickly after dinner and went to bed, giving both Will and Hannibal a good-night's kiss. She seemed unusually cheerful lately, perhaps because she'd started going to school again, perhaps because there was a guy, of course there was a guy.

England was an interesting place, Hannibal clearly liked the way most people were still polite over here, perhaps he felt he could weed  _all_ the rude ones here out one day. As Will grabbed an old-looking book and slouched towards the sofa, Hannibal walked towards the door after finishing up the dishes. "You going out?" He asked, although he probably knew the answer and ran a hand through his hair, he seriously needed a haircut. "Out,' Hannibal confirmed as he opened the door quietly. "I'll be done by eleven, home by twelve. I assume you'll still be up when I return?" Will smiled at him. "Sure."

Will took some more sips of his whiskey and started reading Thomas Mann's _'Magic Mountain'._ He didn't get too far and took a little nap on the sofa, he felt too tired for the long descriptions and he sure as hell was too tired for someone else's existential crisis. He woke up staring at one of Hannibal's weird paintings and grimaced, thinking about Jack, when suddenly the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock, it was 10.30pm, so it certainly wasn't time for Hannibal to be home yet.

He shivered a little, his imagination ran wild and he imagined Jack standing in front of the door, disappointed, betrayed. He imagined himself being arrested and put under doctor Chilton's care, as Abigail was taken away aswel and Hannibal running off to Italy or something. He imagined Hannibal killing elsewhere, killing innocents again and he felt the painful void of loneliness in his stomach. He imagined until he couldn't anymore and until the doorbell rang again, he got up and staggered towards the door, still a little groggy from his nap, taking his gun with him. 

He was prepared for nearly  _anything_ as he opened the door,  _anything_ but a young woman asking for Hannibal, politely, asking if she could come in, politely. 

"So... Uh, who are you again?" He avoided the woman's eyes, getting more and more nervous as he felt her gaze upon him, growing stronger each second.   
"Oh? I figured Hannibal would have told you about me, this is especially cold, even for him," she made the muscles in her face move in a way she looked sad, but she didn't mean it, it looked like she practiced controlling her expression. It looked as though someone taught her.

It was 11pm by the time she finished cooking something for herself in the kitchen, she returned to Will and sat next to him. He met her eyes for a split second, they were fierce, almost black and they were also nearly as hard to read as Hannibal's, he looked away as quickly as he got pulled in. "I think Hannibal will think of it as rude, uh, you know, using his kitchen without his permission." She smiled at him, it was a genuine smile. "He won't, he told me I was free to use his kitchen whenever, it's not because he assumed I was dead that the offer expired, I think, I hope." Her face flushed for a second, "I'm so sorry I should've asked you first."

It hit him, Hannibal  _had_ told him about a girl. She was absolutely nothing like what Will had expected but she somehow still exceeded his expectations. Her skin was very smooth and had a colour that was something between milk- and dark chocolate, she wasn't exactly thin but had the right proportions and knew how to dress by them. Her calves, however, were really thin and they made her legs look very long and elegant.

Wearing a turtleneck with a dress over it gave her a sort of modern grace, she wasn't chique, but she was fashionable and something about the way she dressed demanded respect. She ate in bitty bites, drank in small sips. She was a piece of work and Will hated it. He hated that she didn't tell her name, he hated that she knew Hannibal before him, he hated that she was tall and he  _hated_ that she most certainly was a murderer too. "You're mister Graham right, the man who _didn't_ kill all those people?" The young woman smiled at him again and she brought her fork to his mouth.

"Are you still hungry? It's pork, _real_ pork." He refused politely and stared at her, she was relaxed, not at all nervous to be in Hannibal's house or in Will's presence and he thought back on what Hannibal told him about her.

-

It was about a year ago that he and Hannibal were lying in bed together, sweaty and naked, when it sprung Will to mind that there might have been someone before him, someone other than Alana Bloom, so he asked. The other man had ran is fingers through Will's hair and smiled. "There was, but it has been some time and she is long gone." Will felt as if someone had just put a gag in his throat, he knew it was silly being jealous, so he tried to hide it, but he couldn't shake the eerie feeling that the person Hannibal was talking about had been one of his teacups. "How did you meet her?" he asked, composed. "I saved her life," Hannibal replied dryly. "That's a first." Will sneered, getting a small chuckle from Hannibal, one of those rare chuckles when he was genuinely amused.

"It's not very becoming of you to be jealous of the dead." Will swallowed and felt guilty about being jealous, jealous over something that was probably nothing and over someone that had probably been digested by Hannibal. "I didn't drop her on purpose," he said as he stroked Will's hair a little more, "someone took her away to get to me, it didn't get to me, and I never saw her again." Will looked away.

Hannibal sighed, "you want to know the full story, don't you?" Will nodded. "Listen carefully then."

And then came a story he least expected from Hannibal. Apparently this girl had been a patient of Bedelia Du Maurier, that's how he first met her. She'd bumped into him in the waiting room, apologised about four times and picked his stuff up for him, as she looked up at him, he noticed half of her face was one black bruise.

Hannibal had asked Bedelia about her, who of course refused to tell him anything about another patient of hers. So he gathered a little information, being as curious as ever and visited at her house a few days later, set on ' _having her for dinner'._ In the end it went differently, the door was open and Hannibal discovered she had a lousy taste in men. So he murdered her abusive boyfriend and offered her to eat the guy with him and she - to his astonishment - accepted.

She had the eyes of a lamb, but the look and mindset of a killer. When he met her she was about nineteen, they had a thing when she was 22 and two years later she'd disappeared, they'd killed a lot of people together. "The end," Hannibal said dryly, "It ended as it had begun, unexpectedly. Anyway, she is dead, you are not, so there is no reason for that green blush of yours, dear Will", he said sarcastically as he pulled will closer again. "Sleep now."

-

"I think I know who you are." She looked at him in surprise, "so he  _did_ tell you? That makes me feel a little better. Now I can think of him as a _polite_ serial killer, cannibal and manipulator again, sweet." She finished her dinner and washed her plate in the kitchen.

"You're worried about me being his ex-girlfriend, aren't you."   
He glared at the table,  _of course, she had to be sharp, too._ "Don't worry though Hannibal and I are done. I just came to visit, I only need to stay here for a while." Those words echoed in Will's head, he sighed, relieved and also felt a little embarrassed about being jealous. Jealous about the ex-persumed-to-be dead, ex-girlfriend of Hannibal the cannibal Lecter. This time he swallowed a whole glass of whiskey in one gulp, he heard her giggle. "Can I have some too?"

As they were speaking of the devil, the devil came in, and the devil was surprised, a little. "Lilith," he said as he smiled at her - a surprisingly honest smile, to Will's discomfort - "You pieced yourself back together."

Embarrassment left Will as jealousy returned. He _knew_ he was going to drink a lot of whiskey tonight.

 


	2. Antlers

Will woke up with what felt like the worst headache ever, except that it didn't take place in his head, but in his stomach. It felt as if someone was constantly stabbing him in the tummy, long and abrupt stings soared from his abdomen, through his back and eventually they reached his head. It felt like he could explode at any given moment.

Perhaps it was a hangover, actually, it most certainly was. He sighed and looked at the digital clock next to the bed: 11am, it was already pretty late and he was glad today was Sunday. Hannibal was next to him, still asleep, which was pretty rare, he must've stayed up late talking to that girl. That girl.

Will didn't really know how to cope with these feelings of jealousy; he didn't think Hannibal was still interested in her. He didn't act like it, anyway, but perhaps it just stung that she'd known him before he had, and that he never went out and framed her for his murders. On the other hand, maybe he hadn't gotten the chance. 

Will took off his T-shirt and chose what to wear; jeans, a blue shirt and a brown sweater, before heading to the bathroom and throwing his pajama shirt in the laundry basket, it was clammy, he'd had a nightmare, but strangely enough he couldn't remember. 

Life felt easy in the shower, Will could just let the water slide off of him, if only it was the same with his imagination. The sound of the water that came out of the showerhead, like rain, made him think of that fateful night at Hannibal's house. It reminded him of Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom, they must've died that day, but Will wasn't sure, and lately it had started to bother him that he wasn't sure. 

His nightmares had gotten worse, he'd zone out more often, but he usually couldn't remember what they were about, the only proof for them were sweat and those awful dark circles underneath his eyes. 

He let the water rain down on him and thought about it. Had he made the right choice, going with Hannibal, eloping with a serial killer? He didn't know, nor did he want to. Though he could imagine what it'd been like if he'd refused Hannibal's offer. Hannibal would've gutted him, he would've killed Abigail, he would've left them both to die. Will could imagine it so vividly it almost felt real. 

He shook the thoughts, dressed himself and headed for the living room, braced himself for the day. Abigail had apparently gone out, Lilith was still there, she greeted him with an honest smile. Will stared at her lips, they were full and had a nice shape. She was wearing a light blue, A-line jeans skirt and a pink sweater. She didn't look anything like Hannibal's other acquaintances, she looked... normal. Will knew she wasn't though; otherwise, there was no way Hannibal would've ever kept her around. 

"Would you like an omelette? I've made it with feta cheese, champignons and uh.. I think they were tomatoes, I get confused in the morning." She giggled a little, it was cute, and it was disarming, she seemed like a nice person, but somehow, Will couldn't get himself to like her. It was like how he felt about Hannibal at first, he just couldn't trust her, couldn't think of her as friend-material. 

"Hannibal told me about you yesterday," she said as she served him the omelette he hadn't said 'yes' to yet, "I think he really likes you." He frowned a little and looked away from her lips, slightly embarrassed. 

"That's rare, you know, I think if someone tried to take you away from him, he'd actually fight for you."

That comment made him feel bad, he could sense the sadness behind it, it hurt her that he just let her go, that he didn't care. Lilith gave him a glass of water and some aspirin. "You drank a lot last night, I thought you might need it," she bended a little and placed her face right in front of his as she brushed through his hair with one of her fingers, "also, don't tell Hannibal I made this. He'd kill me for this bad 'cuisinier'." 

Will presumed she meant cooking and took a bite of the omelette. It tasted a little strange, the soft flavor of the egg, together with the strong, almost stingy taste of feta cheese, but it was pretty okay, nonetheless. Of course, far from a match to Hannibal's cooking, but Will didn't mind eating 'commoners' food for once. 

As he swallowed, the food left a funny taste on his tongue, the next breath he took was like the first breath you take in the morning, it was authentic and left a satisfying feeling in his lungs. For a moment it felt like he was starting to lose focus of the existing world, but the feeling soon waned, as did his automatic reflex to stab Lilith with the knife he was holding.

Both of them looked up when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Hannibal walked into the living room and just glared at the food, subtly, then headed to the counter for some strong, black coffee. The man honestly could not start the day without it. "Good morning Will, Lilith." He said as he waited - impatiently - for the machine to serve him the coffee he couldn't function without. 

Lilith got some kind of hint no one even hinted at and left the room with a smile, said she was going to read a book in the guest room, once again thanking Hannibal for letting her stay.

"She's the type that repeats words such as 'thank you' and 'sorry' into oblivion, yet not bothered to gut a man alive, hanging him using his own intestines without a hint of repentance."

Will didn't really know what to say to that, so he just stared at the bags underneath Hannibal's eyes.

"Are you jealous of her, Will?"

"Yes."

"Petty," Hannibal said as he placed his thumb on Will's cheek and brushed it over his - as always - badly shaven beard, "you should know I'm not fond of recycling by now."

"I have a wild imagination." Will says as he lets Hannibal cup his head in his hand.

"You should let it run wild on different things, then." 

Will's heart sunk, far, far away from his chest. He felt nails scratching the insides of his throat and a summer breeze around his member and an odd, odd nagging pain in his stomach.

The feeling would creep over him occasionally, well, apart from the summer breeze, but it got stronger every time it came and he could feel himself starting to tremble. 

He couldn't see straight, he felt his breathing becoming more and more ragged and the pain in his stomach became more and more vivid. Hannibal was raising his voice as he shouted Will’s name.  
He was not ready for another episode.  
It had been so long. Everything had been going so well.

He felt himself shattering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a native speaker and I'm starting to notice my English is actually less good than I thought it was, or used to be, anyhow I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling errors.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted it to be Alana who returned at first, but it felt a little weird to me she'd just show up and visit the murder husbands, so I made someone up.


End file.
